I am always in a hurry. Two steps at a time,Biting nails as clock ticks loudly, fearing time per seconds. My hurry is a blessing and a curse. It's Moving me and Killing me.
I haven't yet decided whether I want to slow down and deprive myself of it or run along it as far as life can take it ... But if I don't hurry, I would loose the race And again I can't hurry.
YOU ARE READING
Words Unspoken
PoetryThere is a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street, and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. Open your hands, if you want to be...
